An Unavoidable Path
by RonsInnerVoice
Summary: ONeshot so far, about what the exile is feeling before he follows REvan


**The Path That Cannot Be Avoided.**

**I was just replaying KOTOR 2 when I decided to do a little story on what happened after the end. I haven't yet decided on whether or not to continue this story or just leave it as a one-shot. I guess time, and the kind reviewers will tell me. **

"The way of the Force does not come easily to any. Any who have said otherwise were either lying or self-deluded fools. This truth is ingrained in the path of the Jedi, under the guise of patience and hard work. All those who were accepted to be trained had to be taught from an early age, to first learn patience.

This is one of the reasons that the Jedi Order had lost so many to the Dark Side.

For the Dark Side did not just believe in the learning of the force; they wanted to master it. For a Jedi, true mastery of the force lay in the ability to let it flow through themselves, but for the Sith, mastery took the form of complete and utter control, where they could bend it to do their will. The power of the Dark Side of the Force was fear-inspiring and seductive all at the same time, for it flowed easily and quickly, while the Light Side had to be contained with immeasurable patience.

And in times of war, immeasurable patience didn't exist."

The Exil- Kith stopped the holocron. Damn, he kept falling into Kreia's habit of calling himself Exile as well. Crazy old woman, he thought, though not un-fondly. Tries to help me, then tries to kill me, then tries again to guide me. There was no doubting it. In the known region of space and unknown parts, he was sure there were no others who would act as crazily as a Jedi.

His hand grasped the holocron tightly, wondering about the reason for its existence. Why on earth would Revan have taken time out to record something like this? And when exactly did he pass it to Kreia? They were a pair, master and student. At times, both insane beyond belief.

He leaned back in his chair, looking about the room, refusing to admit to himself just how much he missed the sounds of his crew.

They were gone, or rather abandoned by the man they once called their leader. He sighed to himself, thinking about how furious some of them would be with him. Mira, Atton, and… Well he was certain Bao-Dur would respect his decisions, and the Miraluka would give one of her knowing, enchanting smiles at him, while the Handmaiden would just as soon clobber him again.

But it couldn't be helped. Whatever paths they been on, ended with the destruction of... well everything it seemed. Now they all had to take a different path; one that currently had nothing to do with him. The way of the Force was strong inside them, and he trusted that it would guide them in their long lives. He wondered at that, how he could believe that the Force would protect them, but at the same time had no confidence in it to protect him.

He supposed it was because where he was going, there were those who had almost 'mastered' the Force to their will. Those who had had thousands of years of practice in this mastery, those who probably understood more than he possibly ever could about it.

And it was to them that he was going. Right into the lion's den. Why, he wasn't entirely sure as of yet. To find Revan possibly, but on a deeper level, he felt as though he was being guided by the Force.

The True Sith… A terror that most of the races of the Republic could never even begin or hope to understand in the full enormity. For them these Sith would just be the same as Malak and Revan in previous years. But as Darth Traya had put it, they were not followers of the Sith ideal.

They were living embodiments of the Dark Side of the Force.

He shivered even in the room with the heater on full blast. And when it came time for them to turn their eyes towards the unprepared and weak Republic, who, if any, could stand against them?

The Republic wasn't in good shape. Economies were a complete mess and governments on some planets had ceased existence. It was a dangerous democracy, people ruling themselves, for he understood too well that freedom in excess, would lead only to anarchy and destruction.

He only hoped that Admiral Carth would be able to restore some sort of order. He knew Revan had faith in the Admiral, but from where he was sitting, that task looked near impossible. Now was the time of mercenaries and crime-lords to prosper. Anarchy was their playground and control open to any who desired it. To get the people to start having faith in the Republic again, to make them trust enough to submit to the government, would one lone man be able to accomplish such a thing?

He smiled at the irony of his question. Here he was on a lone-ranger mission following the king of all lone-rangers, and he dared to doubt Carth? Well what ever was going to happen was no longer in his control. Hopefully Carth had what it took and he did after all, have Bastila to help.

He hadn't actually spoken to Bastila, but he could feel the presence of the Force in her, when he was speaking to Carth. And along with it, her naked and desperate feelings for the missing Revan. He had been surprised, because from what he remembered, Bastila had never seemed the sort to be reliant or to desire anyone. He knew how valued she had been amongst the Jedi, even before her mastery of Battle Mediation, and it had seemed to go to her head back then.

He supposed although her support had been for the Jedi Order, she must have been to a degree furious at not having even been asked, which made her act the spoilt princess all the more. Revan hadn't even bothered to mention her name or go personally to ask for her help as he did sometimes, to some of the more powerful padawans.

He remembered a little gossip back then on how she became even more proud, almost refusing to join group missions. In fact, she was in that aspect, similar to Revan, who although able to draw thousands to him, never allowed any to draw close enough. Well, with the exception of Malak and Kreia of course, and look where that led. Kith wasn't on the level of Malak in terms of friendship, but they did share a strong relationship, one that had been forged in battle. That had been one of the reasons Kith had been made a general. Malak as well, long before the Dark side had taken him, was a good friend who actually knew how to have fun. He could possibly call himself amongst the inner circle, though he wondered where Bastila fit in.

Had Revan been using her love to control her? It sounded like something Darth Revan would do, but the Jedi Revan? It would have been easy for Revan to draw her in, he was sure. The arrogant princess act would have only eased the way for Revan to enter her heart. But the Revan he knew was not a complete bastard, though could still be rather cold and calculating when it was needed. He still remembered how Revan had been willing to abandon worlds just for a victory elsewhere. If so, did he abandon her because she was no longer of use?

Battle Meditation could be a devastating factor in battles, but without absolute focus and unyielding determination, it could easily be perverted, as had almost happened years ago in the battle for the Star Forge. And where Revan had gone, he was sure that Bastila would have been torn apart by greater forces, had she tried to accompany him. All which seemed to point towards abandonment. But there was another reason which said otherwise, the very reason why he was in the Ebon Hawk alone, with only two droids for company.

He cared about her too much to guide her to her death.

He couldn't call it love, for he had no right to assume such things. Kith wasn't too sure about love mostly, especially after the disastrous escapade all those years ago with a most icy of librarians. The affair had left both him and her hurt and confused and they hadn't spoken to each other again till his trial in front of the Council.

The Ancient Jedi had been to a degree right about how love seemed to cloud mind and judgments, leading to the inevitable fear of losing that loved one, or just as worse, becoming bitter over rejection. He remembered what a jerk he had been for a while after Atris, and it had been one of the reasons he had decided to join Revan in the Mandalorian Wars.

After so long he hadn't expected to be troubled with this problem again, and then came the Handmaiden and the Miraluka. He admitted, it had been a long time but he felt drawn to them, both appealing in their own ways. The Handmaiden with her brash and arrogant demeanor, who would argue non-stop or crow over her victories in their sparring, but sometimes look at him with soft eyes. Neither could he forget the Miraluka who would seemed contented to simply smile at him and sometimes even gently lean on him when no one was looking. She didn't speak much but her presence almost felt like a hole in him was filled.

And whatever was going on with Handmaiden and the Miraluka was even more troublesome considering the fact that they were both too young and innocent in this "game". Not that he was any more experienced, but there was a great weariness in him sometimes, a sort of mental aging that seemed to separate him further from the both of them. In fact, sometimes he felt only Canderous could understand him.

Canderous… He wondered how the Mandalorian would take this second abandonment. Canderous had never said anything, but Kreia had informed him that he was formerly of Revan's crew. He also suspected Revan's disappearance had cut him more than he showed, though he had followed the orders given to him without fail.

The Mandalorians would possibly never be able to reach the heights once achieved in their numbers long ago, but under the guise of the Mandalore helmet, Canderous had unified them into a single, strong and well-trained army. They would be of great help when the time came, provided they didn't descend into old desires of war and glory. Again he felt, that despite the Mandalorian's fury with the abandonment, he would understand. Canderous, who understood war as only a select few ever had.

But one army wasn't good enough. They would also need the Jedi Order and that was the biggest problem. Almost all of the Jedi Masters were mostly dead with the exception of Atris. And even though he may have redeemed her, the next few years as she searched for her own path were going to be long and hard, and he wasn't certain if she would be up to training anyone ever again. The remaining ones were self-exiled and it would hard to persuade them into returning.

Of course, there were Force Adepts being born every minute, but the problem was teaching them how to follow the noble path, as the holocron had said, of patience and hard work. And after that, teaching them to hold against the Dark Side. Would Handmai-Brianna be able to achieve some semblance of an Order?

Maybe it would have been better if he had spoken personally to Bastila and asked her to help. But somehow, he got the feeling that the request would come across rather patronizingly, and the insult would never be borne. He chuckled, imagining the two proud women staring each other down, both unwilling to yield as leader. He just hoped they would be able to work together long enough to at least prepare some of the adepts, for they would be needed if the Republic was to hold against the Sith.

He sighed to himself, for that in itself was an unimaginable task. It would take a whole slew of exceptional Jedi Knights and Masters to face the threat of the True Sith. He wasn't even sure if he could at this moment.

This led him back to why he was brooding in the room. Unsure, of feelings and aim. He let his mind wander again, hearing the beeps as TM-34 performed maintenance. The droid was of great importance, probably being the only one who knew just where Revan had gone. But was that what he was going to do, he pondered. Just follow Revan blindly into that great maw? With just two robots and a holocron at his side?

Lone Ranger Extraordinaire. That would be his new name. He was sure before this was over; he would be cursing Revan heartily. He learned long ago, that the Jedi way was to think everything through. Focus on every detail, before making any sort of decision. That was why they hadn't involved themselves in the Mandalorian Wars from the start.

They would probably roll in their… wherever they were now… once they realized that Revan, though acting rashly, had seen and understood the real danger better than any of them. He couldn't have possibly seen or predicted the way things would happen before he decide to react. He had just simply reacted and then planned and adjusted himself accordingly to whatever came next.

That was truly the mark of a great general, and Jedi. Kith knew his worth, knew what he was capable off, and what he couldn't do. He knew he was no Revan.

So what was he to do now, when faced with the same decision? His gut told him that he had to go. He rolled his eyes, that wasn't much use. After all what were gut feelings other than a manifestation of the Force? Besides what if he only added to Revan's problems?

On the other hand, what if he didn't go? He couldn't for-see any other path for himself other than this. He couldn't go back to his friends. That path was gone for now. He couldn't sit back and wait for the inevitable attack. He wasn't even that good a teacher to help out in the education of new Jedi.

This was getting him nowhere. His thoughts drifted to his master, as always whenever he found himself unable to come up with a solution. He had been taught many things; including a saying that he hadn't until recently learned to apply.

He slowly brought his hands together, looking in his mind, at the path he had taken to come to this point. Malak and Atris swirled around him as Kreia's voice echoed in the hollows. He could see Atton, furiously working on a ship as Bao-Dur stood by his side silently.

He saw himself, sparring with Brianna, noticing the look of loss in her eyes, as that too disappeared into the Handmaiden, sitting before him, meditating. He felt a strange desire, to touch her, to feel her warmth and see her smile. But he could not bring himself to. That part of his life had to be done with.

He stepped away, allowing the visions to carry him forward, seeing Jedi and Sith, strong and great, fall before him. He walked past them all, finally arriving once again before Darth Traya. She looked at him, and he saw that her eyes were once again whole. She beckoned with a knowing smile, guiding his sight to another figure, who stood behind her, cloaked in darkness.

Kith couldn't see the person's face, whether it was a man or woman. All he could feel was the enormous power that raged within the person, and the terrible impending of doom that lay behind. And as he had done so long ago, he reached out to Revan, promising once again to fulfill his duties as his general.

'Cast away the impossible and do the possible.' The words of his former master echoes into his mind.

The impossible: predicting what would happen. The possible: going forth into the darkness to do what he must.

He sighed out loud, as he came out of the vision. It was so simple when he came to the crux of it, he realized. Those old Jedi sometimes did know what they were blabbering about.

Kith laughed to himself. He was a warrior, born and bred. This decision had been made already, from the moment he had accepted Revan's call against the Mandalorians. And here he was debating about it, like one of those old fogeys. What ever would happen, he would deal with it.

This path, this battle, could not be avoided.

Revan was waiting for him.


End file.
